Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.
Pairing(s): Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra
Genre: Romance/Friendship/Drama
Word Count: 7,789
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.
Author's Notes: 2/8/13. For the record, although I love all of these characters—yes, even Mako—and have really felt attached to all of them in this universe up until this point, by the time I finished this chapter, I realized that I am actually getting legitimately pissed off at them. Except for Asami. (AND I'M WRITING THE FIC, SO WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN.) I may be typing out the words, but this nonsense sure as hell doesn't feel like my doing, anymore, you know? This story is writing itself. (I'm essentially getting kicked in the canon.)
On a brighter note—I hope everyone else affected by this blizzard is staying warm!
Musical Inspiration: Oh my god, so many. For Tahno in general, definitely "Lessons In Love (All Day, All Night)" by Neon Trees and also "Animal" by The Cab, the latter or which was inspired by the awesome Fanmix created by poorlifedecisionsemily. I also really, really liked the song rec by thedaybeforelast for "Who Are You, Really?" by Mikky Ekko. The lyrics, the feel, all of it. It just fit this chapter really, really well. And finally, "Howlin' For You" by the Black Keys for just... in general.
Thank goodness for ebonyquill, who literally beta'd this while camped out next to a Dasani water bottle vending machine in an airport baggage claim. On her iPhone. (I have texts with photos of handwritten beta notes to prove it.)
3.95
"My dad used to take me up here all the time," he said, staring out into the skyline through the car window. "Bolin was... still too little to come, so it was only ever just my dad and me."
"How's he doing?" Korra plunged, settling farther back into the seat. She was trying valiantly not to fidget, but it was impossible to sit still; maybe if she only moved a little bit at a time, she wouldn't feel so stiff. He'd reclined the seat back a long time ago, but he didn't seem to having a much easier time of relaxing into it than she did.
"He's... Bolin," Mako gnawed on the side of his cheek, absently playing with the fraying cover over the steering wheel. "He pretends like everything's okay when it's not, like everything is one big joke. He's never said it aloud, but I know better; Bolin thinks that if he can just distract the world by making it laugh, then nobody will notice when he hurts."
At this, Korra's stomach clenched. Did Bolin know where his brother was now? She couldn't imagine that Mako would have told him, but—
"I'm still worried about how he's gonna do at the meet tomorrow," Mako admitted with a sigh."I wish he would have just waited until the meet was over to ask, or listened to me in the first place when I told him that it's a bad idea to try dating a teammate."
Korra shifted in her seat, twisting until she was lying along her side, her neck propped up by her hand. She considered him curiously. Openly. "He talked to you about this?"
"Well," Mako sat up, floundering; she had the distinct feeling that if she'd been able to see a little more clearly, she'd see him blush. "I mean, he—he asked me what I thought about you, as—well, you know—and we're brothers, so—"
"What did you tell him?" she asked, her bluntness surprising even herself; she didn't know whether it had to do with Mako's own obvious nervousness or the comfortable heat settling over her skin, but Korra had never felt so calm.
"I..." Mako collapsed against his seat, letting his head sink all the way back into the fabric, and scowled. At first, Korra was worried that he might spend the rest of the conversation staring at the ceiling, but then he turned his gaze, and her stomach dropped all over again. "I told him the truth," he replied quietly.
In the weird part of her brain that registered irrelevant details, Korra took stock of where and who and what they were. It was pitch black now, incredibly dark outside save for the soft glow of a few scattered street lights and the distant specks of city living, mere dots nestled into the valley below, along the far side of a long, sloping hill. It wasn't that late, but for the people in this town, it was probably late enough that some were now settling in for bed, or already out for the night with their babysitters left behind, and then there was Korra, sitting here in a warm car with a boy that she liked on top of a look-out point, with a boy that she was pretty sure liked her back, and—
She wasn't an expert on these things, but she'd seen enough teen movies to know that there was a certain pattern that these kinds of situations entailed.
"Do you still like me?" Korra asked, gaze level, and for once in her life, Korra felt like her directness wasn't such a flaw. Hadn't she been thinking just a few weeks ago that she didn't understand why people couldn't just say what they meant? Or recognize what they wanted without making excuses? What happened to that girl?
And for the first time in many days—sitting there as she was, holding Mako's cornered gaze across the space of a broken armrest—Korra felt like she knew exactly where—who—she was.
Even when he turned away.
"Why do you do that?" he asked, and his voice almost sounded annoyed. Frustrated. Angry.
"Do what?" she asked, uncharacteristically level-headed.
"Ask such blunt questions," Mako banged his head back into the seat. "Like you expect me to know how to answer."
"Well, don't you?"
"I don't—I mean... it's not exactly a simple yes or no question."
"Isn't it?"
Mako's brow furrowed more deeply, and even the distant city lights weren't dim enough to hide the blush washing over his cheeks. "What, are you just gonna sit there and keep asking me questions?" he demanded, scowling in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Neither of them thought it worked.
"Are you going to give me a straight answer to any of them?" she challenged, and leaned forward just the tiniest fraction, edging over into the space that separated them. Mako noticed; she could see the workings of his throat from the corner of her eye as he swallowed.
"Why do I get the feeling you already have the answer you need?" he asked quietly.
"Well, that's the funny thing," Korra huffed a breath of laughter, gently lowering her head back down onto the seat. "Even when I think I do, I never actually seem to have any idea of what's really going on."
Mako watched her carefully, eyes softening as the creases along his forehead disappeared. "You're not the only one," he admitted in a low voice.
Korra bit her cheek, coming to a decision that had been forming in her mind ever since she got into the car. "You know why I like you?" she asked.
Mako looked like he'd been struck in the face, like all of the air had been knocked straight from his lungs. "What?"
"I like you," she repeated without hesitation, without fanfare or expectations or fear. "You've known that for a while. But do you know why?" Mako barely blinked, barely even moved, but Korra plowed on. "When I first came here, without knowing anyone or essentially anything, I looked to anything that would give me some sort of guide for how to, you know... be. Interact. Of all the things I didn't understand, dealing with people was what I understood the least. I still don't understand," she laughed beneath her breath, but brushed away the self-pity. "I've always preferred working with animals over people. Or just being on my own. And I was perfectly content to be that way here, to just hold out until my parents gave in and shipped me back home and things went back to normal. But then I met you.
"I could tell how much the team respected you. Even with missing summer training and coming into the season so late, I could see immediately why people gravitated toward you. I got the impression that you didn't care for the attention all that much, but you took care of your teammates anyway, because you cared about them, because you felt responsible for them. And it's like you said earlier... Half the time I felt like maybe you didn't know what the hell you were doing, either... but your heart seemed to be in the right place. Like where I try to have mine.
"And I realized... I was lonely," Korra's voice grew soft. "I'd never really let myself think about it before. I'd always had my parents and my passions and—sometimes—it felt like I had the whole world literally at my feet... but I'd never had anyone my age. Not long enough to really get to know them, anyway... I'd never really known what it was like to admire someone like that. Until now."
"I... I don't..."
"You don't have to say anything to any of that," Korra smiled softly, wondering how it was possible for one part of her heart to keep beating, unfazed, while the other half lay breaking in her chest. "I just wanted you to know."
"No, but—" Mako cut off, face twisting with frustration as he grasped at the words. "You don't—you don't understand. God," he muttered under his breath, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. "And I don't know how to make you."
Korra's brow creased, and a swirling feeling of sick began swimming in her gut. Looks like it ended up being her whole heart, anyway. "You're a little late," she told him, with a tired, tired voice. "That's kind of the point I was trying to make."
"What? No! No," he insisted, rounding on her, severity in his eyes. "This is what I was talking about! God," Mako breathed, falling back into the seat again. "I mean... don't you get it?"
"Get what?" she sighed, already done with this conversation.
"I like you, okay?" he exclaimed impatiently, almost bitterly, as Korra turned her surprised gaze on him. "There. I said it. I like you. I like you a lot—I like you too much—and I have a girlfriend, who I also care about, and I've been trying to deal with that for weeks, and sucking at it, but... I've liked you ever since... ever since the day I met you. Your first day of practice."
It took her a moment to find her voice. "But... I accidentally punched you that day," Korra whispered. "In the face."
Mako's laugh was full of awkwardness, like he couldn't fully believe it either; she couldn't remember ever seeing this kid blush this much in her entire life, but she was still too floored to think much anything else. "Remember what I said yesterday about the arm wrestling thing?"
Korra blinked. "Oh," she said quietly.
Mako scoffed sheepishly. "Yeah," he sighed, no longer even trying to hide his blush. "I had the bruise for days... Bolin and I have similar tastes... I guess...
"But the point is that... I didn't even know you then, and—well, before I even met you, before you even came, I was already annoyed that you were there. Things were just starting to turn around—this was gonna be the year that we finally make it all the way—and then I got the news that I was gonna have to—that I was gonna have to babysit some newbie transfer kid who'd never cared much for running in the first place. I tried to ignore the fact that you were coming as much as possible, but still couldn't help wondering how you were going to affect the team, and then when you finally did show up... It was barely ten minutes into practice and Bolin was already out of his mind, and the team was all out of focus, and you—you were just such a mess, this happy train wreck that loved wreaking havoc and who captured everyone's attention wherever you went, whether you realized or not, and I—I just—you just—left this impression on me, you know? Everything about you was just so... different? And I just—I just couldn't stop thinking about you, either, and then I had to try to treat you just like everyone else at practices and pretend that everything was just the same as before you came and I'm just..." Mako sighed. "I'm an idiot."
Korra looked over, letting the sounds of her quiet breaths wash over her, like waves upon a shore. This was a nice change, she observed in a strangely detached sort of way, that she was watching Mako be the one fumbling for once. "This is true," she said softly, a teasing light in her eyes. Her smile made her look a lot younger than she really was.
"What I was trying to say is... The point is.. A few weeks ago, we didn't even know each other," he turned to her. "And now... I can't imagine my life without you in it."
But for all her supposed calm, the air stilled in Korra's lungs; there was such heat in his eyes, such burning, it was almost like some sort of fire existed inside of him. He seemed to radiate it from his very core.
"Do you know what I mean?" he asked her, and his frown deepened as her silence stretched on. Korra's eyes traced the lines of his face, taking in the angles and shadows and uncertainty and suddenly, in the light of the orange streetlamps—
She was able to see it all a little differently.
"Here's what I know," Korra said faintly, looking him very seriously in the eye as they stared at one another from across the reclining seats. She swallowed, refusing to acknowledge the lump that was beginning to form. "I know that I like you, probably a lot more than I should. I know now that you don't feel so differently. I also know that you're with Asami," she told him directly, feeling her throat grow tight. "And I know that it's not exactly perfect between you two," her voice dropped to a whisper, just in case it cracked. It won't, she thought, but just in case. "But she cares about you and you care about her. And I care about her, too...
"So that's all I really need."
And that, her mind whispered, as she tried to swallow her heart,is disappointment in his eyes.
Out of nowhere, anger surged up within her, irrational and hot and searing behind her eyes. She turned away, so as not to let him see, but the damage was already done. As a hundred and one emotions churned through her gut, Korra resisted the urge to be sick. Resentment. Bitterness. Frustration. Jealousy. She finally let herself name a few. Korra was not used to waiting, not used to not reaching her goals—and it wasn't about not getting what she wanted, because that wasn't the same, that was different—
"I could see myself with you, you know," Mako whispered, staring out the window, and Korra found her gaze drawn to the overlook of the town as well. I can, too, she thought to herself. All too easily.
"I don't think I can keep seeing you like this," Korra quietly declared. She could feel the words slide out into the air, deepening the distance between them. "You and Asami deserve the time to figure things out."
Mako frowned, but after a moment of contemplation, he offered her a single nod. "So, we're just... friends?"
Korra bit her lip, and tried not to make herself bleed.
"From now on, we're just... teammates."
She'd be lying if she said the ride home wasn't an awkward one.
But—somehow—they managed.
Most of the drive down the highway was spent in reflective silence, with some Today's Hits! radio station turned down low in the background. Korra still didn't recognize any of the songs.
She hated the quiet.
"I have a question about the race tomorrow," she tried.
Mako glanced to her at the side, startled by the interruption of a sentence that he no doubt fully believed was already being carried out. He looked wary, like he didn't know how lightly to tread, or where he quite stood. Neither of us really know anymore, do we? Mako cleared his throat. "Shoot."
"Just what is it about the Northside Brothers that's making everyone so on edge?" she asked.
His eyebrows raised. "The Amon Prep kids? I guess... I guess it's more that we really don't know a whole lot about them. They're very dedicated—some would say a little too dedicated—but whether their talent is natural or trained, it doesn't really matter. The older brother's supposed to be the one to watch out for, though... Aside from the Wolverines, they're the only other team standing in our way of the Championships." His eyes narrowed. "And who knows? I hear this Noatok kid might actually give Tahno a run for his money."
With a sickening lurch, Korra's stomach flipped; her cell phone burned in her pocket.
"Well," she began. "And what about Tahno?" Voice, please don't betray me, she begged. "What's everyone's deal with him?"
"Is that a real question?" Mako scoffed. "Have you met the guy?"
Korra frowned.
"I've run into him once or twice." Or maybe four times, but who's counting? "I didn't think he was gonna be winning any Samaritan's Awards anytime soon, but he didn't seem as bad as everyone keeps making him out to be."
"Doesn't seem as—doesn't seem as bad?" Mako practically sputtered. "Relative to what? A trucker with no teeth?"
"What?"
"Never mind," Mako grunted. "The point is that he's one the sorriest, most selfish excuses for a human being I've ever met, and a total jerk. Wait a minute," he halts, as his voice takes on a wobbly edge. "Please don't tell me you've been listening to the girls' locker room stories."
"What? No! Wait—how do you know about those?"
"You think I don't know what goes on with my own teammates? And please, their giggling is so loud as they come out into the wrestling room sometimes that it's almost enough to make me gag."
Korra eyed his tightened knuckles over the steering wheel and, in spite of everything, felt amused. "Mako... Are you jealous of this guy?"
"I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just say that," Mako spit dryly, roughly shifting gears as they prepared to diverge onto an exit up ahead. "That kid gets the ground he walks on painted in gold, and he doesn't deserve any of it."
"That's a pretty bold judgement."
He huffed. "Okay, so yeah, maybe I am a little jealous of all the recognition, so what? Our team has just as much potential as the Wolverines, and it's not right that White Falls gets all the spotlight. Our runners are just as dedicated and are entitled to just as much scholarship attention as they are."
Ah, thought Korra, as the puzzle pieces began to click into place.
"And he's obsessed with running," Mako continued, slowing the car to a standstill as they reached a red light at the bottom of the exit ramp. "That's all he ever does. He trains and runs and makes showy appearances on the local morning news, and that's it. I mean, if we all slept, ate, and breathed cross-country, I'm sure we'd be making better records, too."
"Yeah, right, 'cuz all that running doesn't sound like anyone else I know."
"Running isn't everything for some of us, you know," Mako scowled quietly. "Some of us have to focus on schoolwork, or focus on taking care of family. Or work double-shifts twice a week."
Awkwardness returned. "Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean to..." I don't even know exactly what it is that I did! Why am I apologizing? I still don't understand anything.
"No," Mako sighed. "Don't be... It's just... It's just a touchy subject, okay? I don't often talk about him; I didn't meant to take it out on you."
Korra's frown deepened. "You really hate him, don't you?"
"Hey," he defended, quickly glancing at her to the side. He apparently didn't like the accusation in her voice. "I'm not the bad guy here."
"Why does there have to be a 'bad guy' at all?" she challenged.
"And I don't..." Mako paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't hate him, okay? It's just..."
"You've never gotten along," Korra sighed, propping her chin on her hand against the window as she rolled her eyes. Yeah. Got it. Tell me something I don't know.
A pause. "We could have," he admitted quietly.
Korra looked up. Mako's eyes remained glued to the road, but she got the feeling that it had little to do with safe driving. He glanced at her, briefly.
"You're not the only who's been trying to hide their home life."
Her brows drew together. "What... do you mean?"
"Tahno and I have known each other since we were kids," he explained, releasing a heavy, heavy sigh. "Foster parents tend to gather in the same circles, so we ran into each other a lot."
Korra's hand slipped from her chin. She tried digesting this, but Mako didn't let up.
"And you know? Maybe we could have been friends... But I've never liked the way Tahno does things, always thinking about only himself—and besides, I had Bolin to look out for. Bolin and I had each other, so we kept to ourselves and he kept to his own, and one thing led to another, and now we completely resent one another. It's been that way ever since we were kids."
"But you had Bolin to think about. It sounds like he didn't have anybody."
"He had us, if he wanted us," he said stiffly, and something about the way he said it tugged at her heartstrings. "But he didn't want help from anyone, and he certainly didn't want anything to do with us. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. And he admits that. Fine."
"Isn't that a little harsh?"
"When you live the way we were living, you learn not to bite the hand that feeds you," Mako said quietly, voice tight with memory. "And you learn to not be afraid of asking for something you want... he never quite got around to realizing any of that."
Without meaning to, Korra's mind drifted toward a more personal side of things, thinking of her own privileges. Hopping from living in one developing country to the next had not left her bind; she'd seen poverty in some of its truest, ugliest forms—but she'd had the promise of escape, always. The light at the end of her ventures through a dark tunnel, so-to-speak, was never a question. Her parents had a strong partnership with the well-established White Lotus, and had co-founded the Avatar Research Foundation—to which, of course, she was the sole heiress—which also meant that among many other luxuries—security, stability, support—she had some pretty hefty inheritance waiting for her. Their lifestyle was a frugal, meager one, but it was a matter of choice.
And then there were the other things she'd been realizing more and more lately just how much she'd taken for granted, like having an extended—extended, extended—family, or visiting relatives in all sorts of places with all sorts of personalities and experiences and wisdom... or even having both of her parents. God, Korra shook her head, fighting the grimace from her face. Just getting loaded with all sorts of guilt today, huh, Korra.
But Mako wasn't finished.
"When Tahno wants something, he makes sure he gets it, and he'll take down whatever—or whoever—gets in his way. He just takes. The guy has no qualms about rule-breaking, that's for damn sure."
Her expression grew tighter as the twisting inside her grew harder to ignore. He's obviously still bitter—hurt—from Tahno's dismissal, it sounds like... But too much of what Mako was saying was ringing true. I mean... What had it been that Tahno had said just yesterday over their shared pot of Spaghetti-Os?
'Big Brother Mako and I go way back—What do you expect me to do about it?—Can't take care of every stupid stray kid out there that doesn't know when to quit. You know what? Never mind, you have nothing I want—I'll just keep you in my debt. I kind of prefer that, anyway.
'I usually have a way of getting what I want.'
Korra's eyes squeezed shut, but the darkness did nothing to hide the sound of his voice echoing in her ears. Her stomach suddenly felt queasy.
My god, Korra's heart thumped inside her chest. What if everything that Asami and Mako have been saying is true? I mean, it's not like I expected them to be lying or anything—maybe just without the whole picture, or his side of the story, but... What if... Have I just been getting played this whole time? No. No. I may not be an expert, but—
"You don't know what he's like during a race," Mako raged on, completely oblivious to the girl quickly falling apart in the passenger seat. "You think you've seen nasty? You haven't seen him on the course; you might think Bolin exaggerates that kind of stuff to turn it into another joke, but it's because he's downright afraid of the guy. He's the cockiest little shit out there, and nobody's favorite competitor. And it's impossible to monitor every part of a race—it's cross-country. There's always going to be at least one spot where nobody's watching."
Korra sat in silence, trying not to think about much of anything.
"I don't respect him," he said, flat and final. "And I think it's rather difficult to, for anyone whose got some for themselves."
Korra sighed into the wave of oncoming heat blowing from the dashboard, thought about the silenced phone sitting neglected in her pocket, and tried not to throw up.
The car was finally silent, save for the endless stream of radio.
After their conversation had eventually trailed off—with Korra simply unable and unwilling to contribute further—the awkwardness eventually all but subsided; the queasiness, however, did not. She knew what jealousy felt like; she'd felt it just a few minutes ago, in this very car. This didn't feel like jealousy.
This felt like betrayal.
She wasn't even convinced that Asami and Mako really even liked each other all that much—Who really knew? Maybe they'd just gotten together because it seemed like the thing to do at the time, or because, for all intents and purposes, they seemed to fit the roles in each other's otherwise perfect track records—but if this feeling was anything close to what Asami might feel if she were to ever find out about her not-so-hidden-anymore feelings for Mako, then Korra didn't want anything to do with him, not like this.
Is this what it feels like? To be a normal teenager with complicated friendships and petty relationship issues and no perspective, whatsoever? If this was what it meant to be a typical high schooler in this day and age, then she didn't want any part of it. She wanted to go home. She wanted Naga and ice caps and beautiful sunrises over glaciers and her father's laughter and Naga. She wanted someone to talk to, someone she didn't have to worry about judging her, who would love her no matter how many stupid mistakes she made, who wouldn't—is this what Bolin feels like? Right now?
—and just when she thought it couldn't get any worse.
"Hey," Mako's concerned voice drifted from the other side of the car. "Are you all right?"
She hesitated, then shook her head. "I think it's all starting to get to me," she said quietly.
"The... race, you mean?"
She knew that it wasn't what he'd been about to say. She didn't bother to correct him. "Yeah. Maybe."
"It'll be easier in the morning," he told her evenly, his reversion back to captain bringing a level of certainty and confidence—and consolation—to his voice. "Trust me—we all deal with the mornings before a meet a little differently, and knowing you, you're the kind who's probably gonna wake up feeling like a completely new person... You're gonna dominate tomorrow," he told her simply, with such plain conviction that she had to look up at him, her uneasiness momentarily forgotten.
"How are you feeling about the race?" she asked him. Mako shrugged, as a little of the embarrassed, awkward smile that she'd grown to know so well spilled over his face. He blew out the air from his cheeks. "Hell if I know anymore," he laughed disparagingly. "As a team, we'll make it through to Regionals; I'm sure of it. But as for me, personally? I... I put on a front for the others, and try to keep up morale, but I never really know how I'm gonna do in a race. I'm not a natural runner, you know? I have to work at it. Sometimes I feel like my body was made for something else, like I'd be better at something that requires a little less flow, and a little more stop-and-go, like—like boxing, or something. I don't know," and there's that laugh again. "I don't know what I'm talking about. At least I have the self-control mostly down... I mean, I know I'll do well, and I'm good at pumping myself up once I get into it all, but... You know, it's kind of funny," he said abruptly, pulling onto the side street that would lead her home. "How so many people think endurance running is mostly about the training and the stamina and technique... Track and Field has a lot of that too, of course... but endurance running... most of it's in your head."
Korra bit her lip thoughtfully. "Maybe that's why I've had such trouble so far," she mused.
"I think we need to reexamine your definition of the word trouble."
"No, really," she insisted, feeling the cogs turning in her head. "I mean, I must have heard all this a thousand times before, but I guess I'd never put two-and-two together until now... Look at this way: for me, the actual running part is a breeze."
"Humble, as always."
"Hear me out! I've always been pretty lucky with the physical side of things. I'm unusually strong for a girl my age, and my stamina isn't too shabby, and this kind of movement just comes very naturally to me... but I'm starting to realize that that's not all there is. I mean. You should hear the way Tenzin talks about running sometimes; it's such a spiritual outlet for him. And he's already new age-y enough as it is, what with all the yoga and the meditation, but running is like—the ultimate way for him to connect his mind, body, and spirit, and... Wow," Korra paused, face scrunching with surprise.
"I can't believe you remember all that."
"I can't believe I was actually listening when he told me all that," and then she laughed. "But it makes sense now, doesn't it? I'd always just kind of cut to the part about becoming faster or stronger, or whatever, but... maybe I've been going about it all wrong," and she was on a roll now. "I mean, sometimes I think I feel the way you do, about being made for something else—something a little different—but I also feel like this fits, too... Like I'm made for a whole bunch of things, and I've found this new thing that I'm meant to do, but my brain just hasn't switched over yet... Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
"Um. Maybe?"
But Korra wasn't deterred; she laughed. "Let me ask you something. Why do you run cross-country?"
"Why do I run cross-country?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"I... I don't know. I never really thought about it before."
"Well, why don't you try thinking about it now?"
Mako sent her a sidelong glance. "You're being awfully pushy," he observed. Korra merely flashed a cheeky grin; she was already in a substantially better mood.
"Just try."
"All right," he sighed. "Well, scholarships for starters; I always knew I was going to play sports all year round, and I'll take up just about anything that will earn me a bit of cash for college. And Bolin was really into the idea of it, so really, I just followed him... It's not like I really had my heart set on anything else. He was kind of surprised when I continued on into indoor track because he does wrestling during the winter season—you should totally see his matches sometime, by the way, the guy is a force to be reckoned with—and I guess I kind of convinced myself that it was just to stay in shape, but..." His lips tightened into a thin line, eyes narrowing in thought. "I guess I got too attached to the team, you know? The family. I know that's why Bolin runs."
Korra allowed herself a small smile. "I could see that," she breathed. She felt a little better now. Warm, even.
"Man," Mako grumbled, albeit good-naturedly. "This conversation is way too philosophical for a pre-meet night."
It was then that Korra realized that the car was no longer moving; instead, the car was parked under the long, sweeping branches of the willow tree, gear set to neutral. "Whoah," Korra blinked. "I was talking so much, I didn't even realize... How long have we been sitting here?"
"Not long. Probably somewhere around 'new age-y'."
"Oh, god," Korra slapped her forehead, and was promptly reintroduced to that familiar feeling of idiocy. "Do I ever shut up? And you," she turned on him. "This is without a doubt the most I've ever heard you talk at once. Like. Ever."
Mako chuckled beneath his breath, and shrugged under her warm stare. "Yeah, I don't know," he scratched his head. He licked his dry lips. "Guess we ended up getting around to those personal histories, after all."
And there went Korra's heart. She swallowed hard, then coughed. "About that... Mako, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. Again." But as she bit her lip, she had to wonder... just how many of their 'teammates' actually knew what Mako had shared with her?
How much did Asami know?
Mako looked at her, then. Really looked at her, and the feeling inside her—wobbly and shaky and warm—grew tenfold. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and—once he'd averted his gaze—he mumbled, "I don't mind."
Mako. Korra swallowed. "Mako—"
"Look," he interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. "I get what you said okay? And you're right. Asami and I need to figure things out. I just... How is this supposed to work? Am I really not allowed to see you anymore after this, other than at practices?"
"I don't—"
"Because I don't think I can do that," he said firmly, looking back at her, effectively stealing the very air right from Korra's lungs. "I don't want to just be teammates," he confessed, desperately holding onto her gaze.
"Mako, look," she tried again, but could feel herself weakening—lips burning—feel herself falling—I could see immediately why people gravitated toward you—
Until a message sends the cell phone on the dashboard into a vibrating fit—
—and shatters them apart.
For one hot second of blind panic, as Korra jolted back against the car door, all but pressing herself to the wall, she thought—she was sure—that the cell phone was hers. But she silenced that thing hours ago.
Which meant—
"Hello?" Mako asked in a deceptively calm voice; she could still see his heaving chest from the other side of the car. His eyes swiveled back and forth as he listened to the voice on the other end of the receiver, and the crease between his brows only deepened. "Uh—yeah, sure." He quietly cleared his throat. "Yeah, no problem."
Korra's heart was still pounding, but at least she could herself breathing over the sound of it again. She watched him with wary, wary eyes. He hung up.
"Who was it?" she asked faintly, sticking to the wall. Mako licked his lips, brow tightening. When he looked up, Korra felt her stomach sink. "It was Bolin. He asked if I could pick something up... on the way home." He looked at her straight in the eyes, and swallowed. "He knows."
Korra blinked. "What?" she hissed, speaking quickly as she still tried to catch her breath. "What does he know? How can he know?"
"We're brothers," Mako stated, which made no sense to Korra, but seemed to be the explanation for everything to him. "Trust me, he just... knows."
"Well, this... complicates things." She sagged against the door, feeling worse than ever.
"As if they weren't complicated enough as it was already," he replied faintly, turning over the cell phone in his hand.
Korra stared at the offensive piece of technology, willing herself not to think about what laid waiting for her inside of her own, willing herself not to think—shit, we almost kissed, didn't we? If it weren't for Bolin's call, we would've—we were so close to—
"So much for the plan to focus on the race," she threw out in an uneasy breath. This wasn't even awkward anymore. They were beyond awkward. She just felt shaky and antsy and wired. "And rest," she added as a useless afterthought.
But Mako only laughed, bitter and jaded and—that's right—disappointed.
"I don't think it's ever been about a plan with you."
Only, those words, they were a little too familiar—
—and then something reached down, grasped Korra's heart, and squeezed.
When Korra flipped open her phone not ten minutes later, with fumbling fingers and tight lips and narrowed eyes in the warmth of her bedroom, she couldn't find a single new message to read.
To: T (D:)
Hey, sorry, I wasn't checking my phone.
Sent: Friday, Oct 18 11:02pm
This was a bad idea.
Probably one of her worst, in fact, which was saying something. She should have just left everything where it was, should have just left the conversation to die and gone to bed and dealt with it all in the morning. She shouldn't have texted him back at all.
But dammit, nothing tonight was going the way it was supposed to! At some point during the drive out, Korra had actually started to feel fine! Better! She'd almost forgotten how shitty the whole mess with Tahno was, about how stupid she'd been acting all this time—with everyone—and why couldn't things have just ended there? Instead of—and then—
From: T (D:)
Finally! Damn. Would it have killed you to have at least glanced at it sometime during the last four hours or so?
Sent: Friday, Oct 18 11:02pm
Her eyes narrowed into the screen.
She'd texted him back because she hadn't wanted to leave him completely hanging, especially not the night before such a significant race. It wouldn't have been fair.
Doesn't mean I would have responded, she texted back.
"Ugh," Korra quietly snarled, scraping clawed fingers through the air in her frustration. "So much for not being a jerk, Korra," she hissed derisively. Quickly, she sent—
I couldn't really text back.
She felt jittery—and cornered and lost and—like she really, really needed to change. She'd kill for a shower, even, but that would have to wait until the morning. She had to get up in a matter of hours, anyway. As she ripped off her shirt, her phone vibrated again.
Okay, fine, whatever, but back to the weird texts from this afternoon, she read. What is up with you? If I'd known that you were going to get so caught up in the homecoming thing, I would have told you. I just didn't think you would have cared.
Korra swallowed hard, and took her time changing into her sweatpants before answering. Well, was it fun? she asked. Lucky for her, bitterness didn't translate very well via text. (And neither did dejection.)
What? Homecoming?
No, moron, your trip to the salon. YES, homecoming.
With a heavy sigh, Korra flipped off the lights and crawled under the covers, completely ignoring her usual routine. Whatever. She'd worry about it in the morning. Korra squeezed her eyes shut against the moonlight filtering through the window, covering them with her clammy hand. She needed to get a grip. With another deep breath, Korra rolled over and plugged the charger into the slot on her phone, then carefully dragged it back over the mattress towards her pillow, where she curled herself into the sheets. She waited.
Calm down, she read, and though indignation spiked, her heart still skipped. It was homecoming. What do you want me to say? I went, I danced, I won the stupid crown, I danced some more, and then I left. The end.
For a moment, Korra merely stared at the screen—reading it once, twice, three times—and then she saw it.
Now, Korra had never been to a high school dance before, but she'd been partying in clubs long enough to understand how varied the interpretations of dancing could be; a girl didn't live in Buenos Aires for as long as she did without becoming a master, after all. Like a cheap scene from one of her movies, her mind flooded with visions of a dark, crowded high school gymnasium: flashing lights, loud, pulsating music, thumping base—high heels, just like Asami said—and a thriving dance floor, filled with writhing bodies. She could picture it perfectly, could see it so clearly that it was impossible to imagine it happening any other way, and in the center of it all, under a layer of sheen sweat, was—who else?—Tahno, amidst the throbbing mess, head and body swaying to some rhythm she couldn't hear, wearing dark jeans and a white shirt under a black blazer—though a few of the girls nearby were trying to pull it off. He was surrounded by them—two looked especially familiar, the ones she'd seen all those weeks ago—grinning, grinding, giggling—his gaudy crown hanging off some girl's arm like a bracelet, and as one crawled up his stomach—as another rolled against him—his mouth was behind another girl's ear, his fingers on her hips, her lips on his—
She felt sick.
What was it like? Korra asked, clutching her stomach, wrapping the covers more tightly around her.
It was a dance. And then: Why's this such a big deal? I refuse to believe that someone like you would be that interested in something like this.
Someone like me?
You know what I mean.
Korra frowned. Her typing was slow. Clumsy. Can't say that I do.
This is too hard to type over text. Just call me.
Can't. The kids are sleeping in the room right next to mine. That was, of course, an outright lie. The kids practically had their own wing. And so did she, for that matter, but for some reason, she just couldn't fathom the idea of having a real conversation with him in that moment. It was so much safer to text, right? She wouldn't be able to hear his voice and, more importantly, he wouldn't be able to hear hers.
Fine. But you know what I mean. You're not ridiculous as the rest of this town is. You're different, okay?
Did you go with someone? she asked out of nowhere, before she'd seen his text.
"Shit, why did I ask that?" she hissed, but at the same time, it gave her an excuse to continue avoiding his original question. Different. Different how? Her eyes squinted at the screen. Before she let herself get carried away with simple word denotations and vague, possible connotations and stupid, naïve, interpretations—
He didn't answer right away. That alone was enough to fray her nerves even more.
I went with some of the team, he finally responded.
"With your team?" Korra whispered into moonlit shadows. "Yeah, okay, buddy. This coming from the guy who essentially spits on his team when he doesn't have to deal with them, and probably even when he does. Right."
I thought you said it was a thing for friends and dates, she challenged, heart pounding.
So I broke my own rules a little, again, what's the deal?
You seem to be breaking your rules a lot lately.
New girl, are you jealous or something? Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump went her heart, as all of her fears came creeping, crashing back. Is that why you weren't texting me back earlier?
"Why are you so determined to know if I'm jealous or not," Korra muttered into her pillowcase, disregarding the painful lurch in her gut.
She ignored his persistent questioning. I wasn't texting you back because I was out.
Out? This late before a meet?
This wasn't working. A quick glance towards the cell phone's timestamp told her that it was far too late for her to be capable of typing anything even remotely productive. She was tired and—still a little shell-shocked—and very, very confused. It'd be better if she just finished this up, quickly, and put the cell phone away.
Hey, even you suggested a late night park run, she responded slowly, aiming for light. And yeah, out. You know, just our typical team bonding shenanigans over ritualistic sacrifices.
She could hear the disdain in his voice as she read: While I wouldn't normally put it past the Fire Freaks, not even Mako would be dumb enough to pull that the night before he comes into our territory.
And, just like that, there—
—went all of her good sense.
(Or whatever was left of it.)
And like you would know how Mako spends his Friday nights.
A few minutes passed, leaving Korra to silently fume into her bedsheets. She was so tired of high school drama already—and what month was it? It was only mid-October. Dealing with hormones she'd never experienced before—at least not so strongly—trying to talk to boys who liked her when they weren't supposed to, feeling like a hypocrite over shit she barely even understood herself—she was exhausted. Her cell phone vibrated, and her eyes popped open.
Are you saying you would?
"God," Korra sighed into the pillow. Was this ever gonna end? She texted: What do you care?
I don't, he responded immediately. Mako's a dick.
So are you.
Yeah, but at least I'm upfront about it. That guy's nothing but a two-faced loser.
Well, now I see where your team gets their terrific sportsmanship from.
Seriously, she read, and a distant part of Korra's fuzzy brain was ringing warning bells. Was it with him? You couldn't text me because you were with douchebag Mako for the last however many hours?
What if I was?
Another minute passed, as Korra's eyelids fluttered open and closed. Behind her eyelids, all she could see were bodies moving in the dark, and a distant, haughty, hungry look in his eye that sent her world spiraling down.
Seriously, were you?
Again, I don't understand why this is such a thing for you. It's not like you were gonna be there, anyway.
"Crap," Korra hissed in a broken whisper. Stupid, stupid, what am I doing, take it back, she breathed, brows furrowing as she reached for the keys. God, that must have blindsided him, Korra realized with gut-wrenching clarity. I need to apologize, and then: I need to explain. Shit...
Look, Tahno, she eventually typed. This isn't how I wanted—
But by the time she'd woken back up—tossed and turned herself awake at three in the morning—Korra only had an unfinished message sitting in her drafts, and she found a response waiting for her in the inbox, sent nearly forty minutes after her last text.
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From: T (D:)
Fine. Sorry I asked.
Received: Saturday, Oct 19 12:21am
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Which meant that Korra didn't sleep very well after that.
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End Note: Next up... 4.0 - RACE DAY.
Good pain? Bad pain? I'm so tired. Please, please, please let me know what you think!